


Resolution

by enviouspride



Series: OTP: Fix You [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 21:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enviouspride/pseuds/enviouspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another step closer, a creak of the floorboards, and Leonid presses a gentle and supple hand flat against his back.  A warmth spreads through Basten and his spine loosens under the touch.  Looking down, there’s something almost like concern simmering behind Leonid’s gaze, but he scowls and mutters, “you oaf.  It’s all in your head.”</p><p>There's a restless tension growing in Haven, Basten can feel it, and he wants to protect the one person he holds dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resolution

"If you're going to  _insist_  on staying, would you at least sit down?"  Leonid sighs, back resting against the creaky headboard, "or come back to bed and make yourself useful."

 

"I didn't think you'd be able to handle a second round this soon," Basten says, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the man whose scowl is spreading across his face - arms crossing against his bare chest as the blankets pool around his waist and between his legs in the most beautiful and enticing ways.

 

Leonid quirks an eyebrow, watching as Basten looks him over appreciatively.  The corners of his mouth lift into an almost-smile.  Basten smiles back but the light doesn't reach his blue eyes.

 

It's still early, only the beginning of the sun peeking over the horizon. The sun casts subtle pink and yellow light into the window of the person's house that Leonid had charmed into letting them use it for the night.  No doubt that, in a few hours, that grumpy elf mage will be glaring in and accusing them that he's slept terribly because of them - Leonid might tell him where to stick it, Basten will undoubtedly take it as a compliment of his handiwork.

 

"All right, if you're just going to stand there worrying about  _something_  I should at least know why you're standing  _there_  completely naked and not otherwise occupied with  _me_ ," Leonid deadpans, head tilting to the side like a mabari that's caught the sound of something interesting in the distance.  His arms uncross and he runs one small hand through his silver, bed tousled hair - though his very dark roots are beginning to show through all that light hair.

 

Basten remembers the feel of that soft hair between his fingers, how it felt to pull the human’s head back with it and how he had gasped out and cursed to the Void and back when he did.

 

"Something isn't right-" Basten says, pulling his own hair back and tying it tightly atop his head.

 

"Clearly, there’s a great big hole in the sky."

 

"I mean at Haven. There's a nervous energy around and it's not just because we're going to seal the Breach soon.  It's just a feeling that I've got."  Basten waves a hand in front of his face irritably, he can feel the buzz and wants - no, needs - someone to tell him he isn’t going crazy.

 

"It's either a Qunari thing or a mage thing, because there's nothing wrong from where I'm sitting," he takes a pointed gaze down Basten's form, across the muscled plane of his back and side and - almost painfully slow - over the curve of his ass.  

 

It’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s not going to find the reassurance that he’s looking for here - even if he does enjoy the way those brown eyes linger on his form.

 

"As incredible as I am, I don't think that's what is keeping all of Haven awake at night.”

 

Leonid has the decency to chuckle at that.  He’s still sitting there, torso exposed, eyes still half lidded from waking - he has no right to look this enticing.  Clenching his fists at his sides, Basten steadies himself.  He can’t allow himself to be simply pulled back in by this...incubus.

 

“Of course not, that’s what I’m for,” Leonid says, peeling the blanket away from his legs as if that was his proof.  He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pauses, taking another long look up at Basten - it’s a steep angle for his neck.  Basten rolls his eyes, only Leonid could still be acting this way when clearly there’s something bigger going on around them.  He turns away from the bed, eyes fixed on the window and the ascending sun beyond - the Breach a constant, lingering presence in the distance that sickens Basten to his core.

 

The bed creaks and Basten can hear feet shifting on the floorboards.  It seems like an eternity where there’s nothing - neither of them move, or say anything there’s just the sound of Basten’s breathing heavy in his own ears.

 

Another step closer, a creak of the floorboards, and Leonid presses a gentle and supple hand flat against his back.  A warmth spreads through Basten and his spine loosens under the touch.  Looking down, there’s something almost like concern simmering behind Leonid’s gaze, but he scowls and mutters, “you oaf.  It’s all in your head.”

 

“It never hurts to be cautious sometimes,” he smiles, eyes bright in the early morning sun, “that’s how you avoid piercing a hole in your travelling companion with an arrow.”  Basten reaches up, hand resting at his shoulder over the scar of said arrow wound.

 

“Well next time you’ll know not to go wandering off on your own,” the warmth is gone from his back and Leonid crosses his arms again.

 

“I wasn’t aware there was going to be a ‘next time’ Master Trevelyan, though your word isn’t much to go by,” Basten pauses, pulling Leonid by the waist towards him, “you did say this was never going to happen again.”

 

“I never said I wasn’t a liar,” he presses his mouth to the curve of Basten’s shoulder, each syllable a unique sensation against his skin.

 

“You can add that to your list of debauchery,” Basten runs his hand up Leonid’s spine, his body trembles with small shivers - some warmth returning to his cold skin.  Leonid presses closer into that warmth, a kiss ghosting across Basten’s shoulder.

 

“Perhaps I will.  Though there’s no need for you to go spreading this around,” there’s a hand squeezing Basten’s hip and yet more kisses being pressed into his skin - each one like a secret being etched into his being.  However reluctant Leonid might be to admit it, he must like it here with Basten.  Or he wouldn’t have come back after their trip around Ferelden - after Leonid had very pointedly said that he'd go find someone, or several someones to fill his bed for the evening it was Basten that he'd ended up tumbling in the sheets with again.

 

It was that conversation, followed swiftly by the pulling of horns and Leonid's surprisingly powerful legs tucked around Basten's waist, that had lead to the moment they're in right now.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I couldn’t let you lose the only reputation you have.”

 

“It’s nice to know that you care,” Leonid says, every word is dripping with sarcasm but Basten doesn’t expect any less from the man.  He stretches onto his toes to push his mouth to Basten’s jaw, there’s the raspy sound of stubble against Leonid’s lips and he wonders briefly if it hurts - he’s been meaning to shave since they returned but has found himself... otherwise occupied.

 

“Leonid, if anything does happen here.  Promise me that you’ll find a safe way out - away from Haven.”

 

If anything is to happen to Haven, the last thing he needs to worry about is this stupid human getting himself killed because he won’t kill anyone.

 

“You really believe that I’m stupid enough to wait around whilst everything goes to shit?  Of course not.”  Leonid pulls away, his eyes fixed on Basten.

 

“You say that now, but-”

 

“Basten, I’ll go.”

 

The world stands still, Basten just nods and a sigh escapes his mouth.  The tension that had been coiling up his spine dissipates.  He runs a thumb over one defined cheekbone, watching as Leonid’s head tilts to accommodate the touch.

 

Leonid is back in his arms in seconds, hastily pressing flushed lips to any of Basten’s skin that he can reach.  In turn, Basten grabs silver hair pulling Leonid’s head up until their lips meet.  All tension in the air breaks, replaced with wanton moans and small gasps.

  
Grumpy elf be damned, they’ll be as loud as they want as they fuck until late morning.  


End file.
